


The Follower

by 1Julie_Ruin7



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: AU, Curses, Drug Dealing, Drugs, Horror Elements, Human Trafficking, M/M, Mental Instability, OOC, Older Man/Younger Man, Poverty, Prostitution, Stockholm Syndrome, organised crime, slight name changes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 08:21:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5368253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1Julie_Ruin7/pseuds/1Julie_Ruin7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alois has started getting used to waking up in the desert that backs the street he lives on. He thinks he's just been sleepwalking, as does his counsellor. It not until the morning after he meets an odd FBI agent, that he thinks something might be following him. (characters added as they appear, tags added when relevant, rating may change).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Follower

As usual, Alois didn’t remember how he had go into the desert but given that he was in his pyjamas, he knew it wasn’t outlandish to assume that he had sleepwalked. It was becoming an increasingly more common occurrence and every night he seemed to get further into the desert. At this point he wondered if he should tell his counsellor about it. He didn’t think it was that alarming as the desert was not so far from the building that he lived in. It backed the street that seemed to live right on the edge of the city, or the suburbs. He wouldn’t call the place he lived in his home but he was bitter the so-called “carers” never noticed when he went missing. 

 They said he was a flight risk which is why he had to stay under supervision even when he got out but if that were true then how had he managed to walk so many miles away from the suburban and end up in the desert again. He’d never lived in the way he did now, he’d never really lived before and he wasn’t sure if he was living now, but he still knew that something was wrong.

 It should seem much scarier trying to get back to the hostel barefoot, alone and in his pyjamas but he didn’t have a phone. It wasn’t because he had a phone which he’d left at the hostel. He simply didn’t have a phone so the safest option was just to trek back alone. The first few times he’d almost been worried he was lost but he always managed to make his way back. He’d become used to the road he would have to follow to get back to the hostel and he’d managed to make his way there with no upset or route confusion today.

Some people would worry about the kind of attention walking along a busy road bare foot in pyjamas would have attracted but Alois had found he was literally invisible. He was fairly certain that if he stood in front of a car, the driver would keep going straight ahead. He’d contemplated putting the theory to the test many times in the past.

When he finally made it back home he found that the few people employed to work at the hostel were making breakfast so he knew he was at least making it back earlier and earlier. He considered mentioning his perilous journey through the desert and the streets in dramatic detail but he knew no good would come of it. Instead he grabbed a cup from the cabinet and made his way up to whichever of the three bathrooms were empty.

He ran some tap water into it and drank some to deal with the slight dehydration which came from sleeping in the Californian desert. It tasted awful and his mouth was so dry that there was usually a mild metallic taste in his mouth. Then he showered with the cheap non-perfumed soap. It was a stressful shower that involved trying to scrub dirt and sand from his skin and hair. He felt even more exhausted after he got out of the shower.

He dried off with a rough towel that never seemed to get washed enough and made him wish he could have another shower. Many of the other residents had no care for hygiene. Alois was sometimes glad that none of them paid attention to him as he was fairly certain half of them didn’t wash their hands. Alois did want to wrap the towel over himself as he rummaged through the donation box in the hallway for lesser worn or clean(ish) clothes but he had no other choice. No one in this hostel had anything to their name so all the clothes were shared between them and donated from people in the area. It was nice to know that all the people in the street who had desperately campaigned for the residents to be located elsewhere were kind enough to give them their cast offs. 

Most of the clothes were too small for Alois. He looked around the same age as most of the teenagers who lived on the street but no one was really sure how old he was. The main detective from the case said he would try and find his birth certificate but that had been three months ago and now Alois had to wonder if one even existed. Logistically, he didn’t exist anymore because he’d been given a new identity for his own protection.

After slipping on a pair of shoes he’d managed to hoard under his bed, he found he was out of the door again. He hated staying in that place and so he would be out of it whenever possible, even if it meant being one or three hours early for his appointment. The people who worked at the house should have noticed him ducking out of the house again but they didn’t. If they did, Alois wouldn’t hate staying there so much. He felt like a ghost in that building. Sometimes he honestly believed that he might have died from dehydration the first time his sleep walking took him into the desert and now he was just a spectre who drifted through the world completely unnoticed. He nearly mentioned it to his counsellor once enough but he was fairly certain that she was just supposed to make him able to testify in court. It was pointless because despite the fact he didn’t want to, he was going to when the time came. Secretly he hoped the police would never find any trace of the man they were looking for.

It must have been around eight o’clock because there were people on the street. Mostly teenagers getting car rides to school and joggers wearing professional athletic attire even though they were only jogging to burn calories. The sun was only just coming up but the pavements were already sizzling from the heat. Alois felt a few beads of sweat gathering underneath his fringe so he threaded his fingers into his hair in an attempt to shake them loose. The few lingering souls outside where unbothered by the heat.

The sky was still orange but by the time he had made into the central part of the city it was already buzzing with life and heavy crowds. This meant it would take longer for Alois to get to the appointment he was already incredibly early for which was fortunate. He could slide through the conglomeration of life with ease but he chose to walk slowly and take the longest route to his counsellor’s office which was conspicuously placed in the middle of a strip mall in a bad neighbourhood. According to the detective who escorted him to his first session, the police arrested quite a few drug dealers in this area but Alois had never really noticed anyone like that. Though he didn’t really know what they would look like if he had done.

The route Alois had chosen to take usually took him an hour. He hoped he might get lost so that he wouldn’t have to sit outside the building until Dr. Anafeloz arrived to open the office up at ten. He wanted to be late for the appointment because that might actually rise some interest out of someone.

He slowly made his way out of the ebb and flow of the crowd and onto lesser tread paths that wound into residential areas. The houses on this street had rusted cars imperfectly parked on browning lawns which had beer cans strewn about them and trees with broken tire swings. They were not the polished homes, built like roman mansions, from the street he lived on that made him feel so uneasy. They were closer to the trashed hallways in dense council flats with screaming coming from the other side of thin walls and flickering lights that he vaguely remembered from his childhood and so he felt at home in this area. The people drinking on deck chairs outside didn’t even notice him, they were too drunk.

The residential streets became more and more decrepit the further he walked until he finally graduated to the land of bungalows with cracked windows and doors which appear to be teetering off of their hinges. A couple argued outside whilst the woman held her child and got up in her husband/(boyfriend?)’s face whilst the child wailed in between them. Alois had started to recognise this couple. The earlier he was out in the morning the more of their argument he was subjected to. It seemed habitual for the couple to argue early in the morning but Alois was yet to ever really catch a gist of what it was they were arguing about. The baby was usually out of sight and it was difficult to judge, without extensive knowledge about the child’s home life, if this was good or bad.

It was half past nine when Alois was across the road from the strip plaza where his counsellor worked. Alois didn’t have a watch or mobile phone so he had no concept of how long he would have to wait for her to actually arrive. A van pulled up in the car park and a couple of people exited and entered the small _McDonalds_ at the very end of the strip. It seemed too early to be getting lunch and Alois didn’t know that about _McDonalds_ breakfast menu.

He broke from his thoughts and crossed the road. As he stood with the _McDonalds_ towering over him he realised that he was starving. He was still skipping meals on a frequent basis though it wasn’t anything he did intentionally. More used to an empty stomach than regular meals Alois often forgot to eat and no one in the hostel ever put in the effort to remind him. Even when he did feel bothered enough to get food, he usually ended up with the least of it as the other occupants were always down first and seemed to continuously receive larger portions.

Without realising, he found himself drifting towards the _McDonalds_. He lingered by the window and watched the group of people settle around a table as they ate. They were silent for the most part but when one of them did decide to speak, they leant into the table and everyone in the group would lean towards that person. Alois slid in through the door and, typically, went unnoticed by the staff and the people from the van.

There were two women and three men. A blonde man complained about having to meet in a _McDonalds_ , stressing that he did not fit in. A Chinese man responded that the blonde man should have dressed down then and the Chinese woman next to him nodded solemnly. The blonde did not reply but had an indignant look on his face.

“We should be talking about more serious matters,” the redheaded woman, whose voice was much deeper than what Alois had expected, hummed and then she readjusted her glasses.

“I would have preferred more security,” the blonde man responded. Alois noticed that other man said nothing and the Chinese woman followed suit.

“Who’s going to look in a _McDonalds_?” the redhead sighed. 

For all their suspiciousness they managed to take no notice of Alois as he searched through his pockets for money and eavesdropped on their conversation.

“Your house is more than likely bugged anyway,” the Chinese man added as he picked up a fry from the table and twirled it between his fingers, “After the incident with your uncle.” “I’ve managed to evade suspicions of involvement quite well, thank you,” the blond man snapped as he looked down on the food in front of him.

“Because the police would let you know if they were onto you,” the redheaded woman announced, “And there’s the fact you said you were moving back to England but now you’re still here which is doubly suspicious.”

Alois sighed as he realised that he had no money in the world and would have to sit through his counselling session with an empty stomach. The Chinese woman caught the sound and glance around the room noticing Alois immediately. She whispered in the ear of the man sat next to her and he quietly alerted everyone of his prescence.

“It’s just some kid,” the redheaded woman said flippantly.

“It’s an opportunity,” the blond man corrected. By this point Alois had noticed the staring and had started to blush from the unfamiliar attention. He played with the hem of his t-shirt, unsure of what to do. He didn’t dislike the feeling but at the same time he felt like a child who had been thrown into the ocean and expected to swim. In his life he had learned how to behave with one kind of person. He didn’t know how to behave with a group of people.

“Come over here,” The blond man said and Alois, recognising this type of person, complied with a little more reassurance that he knew what he was doing. The blond man pulled a seat over from another table and ushered Alois to sit down.

“How old are you? Shouldn’t you be in school?” he asked.

“Fifteen,” he lied as he suspected he was older but he looked about fifteen so that’s what he said, “I don’t go to school.”

“Where do you go then?”

“Around,” he responded, unsure of what answers would make them like him or continue the conversation. The blond man chuckled at that particular answer.

“Do you live around here?” the redheaded woman asked and Alois shook his head, “then what are you doing here? You clearly don’t have any money.”

“I have to see the counsellor around here,” he answered.

“What for?” the redhead inquired.

“I’m not really sure,” Alois replied, feeling as if he were being interrogated.

“Do you have any friends?” The blond man added. Alois opened his mouth to answer but found himself bereft of answers so he shut his mouth. The group realised he was alone. The blond looked pensive and then looked at Alois again, “You must be lonely then. Would you like to make friends? Meet new people?”

Alois nodded said and the redhead started to look uneasy. The blond smiled at him and then looked around the table.

“Are you hungry?” the Chinese man finally said, Alois nodded again and was passed food. Once Alois actually had food in his hands he didn’t feel like eating it or at least not very much of it. He ate cautiously and slowly whilst the people at the table watched him, adding up his actions. Alois had wanted attention, he supposed that’s why he chose to follow them into the McDonalds but now that he had it, he didn’t know what to do with it.

“What are your names?” Alois asked, trying to sound more sure of his social footing.

“My name is Aleister,” the blond man began and then he pointed to the Chinese man, “That is Lau and the woman sat next him is called Ran-mao.”

The couple gave a small wave.

“You can call me Grelle,” the redhead added. The unnamed man on the table remained silent and nameless. His hair was grey and Alois deduced he was probably only there as a bodyguard for Aleister.

“I’m Alois,” Alois announced as he put down the other half of the hash brown, already feeling full.

“Are you finished eating?” Aleister asked and Alois nodded, “Would you be interested in going for a drive with us?”

What would have made most people wary of this group was normal to Alois. They only seemed slightly grander than the people Alois had met in his prior life and the idea of danger was not a fully formed concept in his mind. The slightest alarm in his mind was that he could potentially miss his appointment with his counsellor but what of that? Maybe if Dr. Anafeloz were to notice he hadn’t turned up and she were to raise a fuss about it, perhaps it would finally teach the people at the hostel to pay attention to him. If no one noticed or cared then Alois would no longer be wasting time with people who didn’t care about him. In this line of thought, it was a win-win situation.

“Okay,” Alois said and then Aleister practically pulled him out of his seat and towards the door. There was a slight lurch somewhere inside of Alois’ chest that made him wonder if something bad was about to happen to him and he thought of drifting through the desert at night time. It was that strange sense of terror that seemed clamp down on him, that made him walk and walk until he dropped to the ground from exhaustion.

But he allowed himself to be lead out of the door with the rest of the group in tow but moving much slower.

As they made their way into the carpark with Aleister just about to unlock the door of his van, Alois felt a hand land on his shoulder and he looked behind him to see his counsellor with an irritated expression.

“What’s going on here?” Dr. Anafeloz asked as she looked between Alois and Aleister. The rest of the group slowed their pace until they faded into eccentrics milling around the door to McDonalds in order to avoid being caught.

“I just bought the kid breakfast,” Aleister began, “Apparently he was starving. Who’re you his mother?”

“No, I’m his psychiatrist,” she answered promptly.

“Counsellor,” Alois muttered.

“Why are you leading him to your car?” she demanded.

“He asked if he could see the van, I don’t know why.”

“Is this true?” she turned to Alois and he nodded. There was something about the situation that told Alois he would stay in Aleister’s good books if he followed everything he said. Alois didn’t know why he needed to stay in Aleister’s good books he just knew that he needed to.

“Look, ma’am, I’m sorry to have caused a fuss. I only came here to get a breakfast after visiting a friend’s and I did my best to do what I thought was right.”

It was obvious Dr. Anafeloz didn’t believe a word coming out of Aleister’s mouth but she looked at Alois, sighed and then nodded.

“Alright, I have to speak with my patient now, we have an appointment.”

Aleister did not need much prompting before he got in his van and drove away. Grelle looked a little stunned but no one else reacted. Alois assumed he’d come back for them once Dr. Anafeloz was gone so she wouldn’t have proof he was lying. Alois begrudgingly followed his counsellor to her office, his mood snagged with doubt that Aleister would want to talk to him after Dr. Anafeloz embarrassed him.

Dr. Anafeloz had once told Alois that Hannah Anafeloz wasn’t her real name. It seemed to Alois that she’d already given up trying to help him because, in Alois’ mind, he didn’t need help. Dr. Anafeloz was a tall native American woman who had worked extremely hard in college and ended up as a poorly paid counsellor working in a cheap looking office that looked more like a dodgy insurance company than a place of healing.

The front reception area was not necessarily plain due to the ugly patterns on the tattered and thrifted sofas but it was still a dull area. There was a slightly battered white coffee table in between the couches with magazines piled up on top and pamphlets about the charity work the counsellors here did. Alois was more than aware that he was charity work.

There were large panelled windows on the first floor as the building had undoubtedly been a shop beforehand but the second floor had small hokey windows. There was a cheap plywood reception desk. The receptionist they had hired for the office only worked part time as they couldn’t afford to keep her full time. They had a phone and an old computer, not that Alois knew that the computer was old.

Dr. Anafeloz unlocked the door that lead to her shared office. She groaned as she parted the door beads that her co-worker had hung over the door. The blinds were pulled over the window and they cast an orange gloom over the dimly lit room. The furniture here was less eclectic as there wasn’t very much of it. There were two black couches with a small oak table between them with some paper and coloured pens on top of it. The oak table was also thrifted. Dr. Anafeloz had once admitted that she had wanted to take the table for herself but by the time her co-worker got back she’d missed her opportunity to do so.

Dr. Anafeloz wasn’t very professional, even Alois could tell. There was an air to her behaviour that implied she felt she deserved better than the terrible lot she had been handed but at the same time she didn’t feel passionately enough about it to go and chase after a better situation. She seemed to take her situation passively. She’d once lit a cigarette in the middle of a session and wandered over to the window as she said, “I have no clue what I’m supposed to be fucking doing here.”

She once asked Alois if he’d ever watched ‘Twin Peaks’ and he confessed he didn’t know what that was and she just cursed under her breath and looked a little bit dismal for a minute. Alois didn’t know what to make of her, at first she’d been nice enough, trying very hard to accommodate him. It took a while for her to lose her will and it wasn’t anything Alois had done on purpose it was just that he didn’t know what he was doing here. After all those months it appeared that Dr. Anafeloz had come to agree with him. 

“You shouldn’t talk with people like that,” she announced once she made her way into the room. Her nose wrinkled as she realised that the last person in the office had been burning incense and had completely stunk the place out, she waved her files around as if to waft the smell away but it just made it worse.

A few different responses flitted through Alois head, the main two being “why not?” and “they’re the only people who’ve talked to me”. Unsure of which was the best response, he remained silent as he climbed onto the sofa. He crossed his arms and focused on a point on the wall to the side of him instead of on Dr. Anafeloz.

“I know that man,” Dr. Anafeloz added, “He’s been involved with drug rings and prostitutes. Maybe he still is.”

Alois remained silent. He wasn’t that dumb, he knew they were shady he just didn’t care. He felt better around shady people like that. Dr. Anafeloz sighed and then shrugged off the tan leather jacket she’d been wearing and threw it over her couch.

“I guess the last people in here did creative therapy,” she said as she pulled off a poorly drawn scribble from the top of the pad; “I guess this girl must think she’s quite edgy,” she commented before she balled it up and tossed it in the metal trash can behind her without even glancing towards it.

Alois had noticed from some of the comments Dr. Anafeloz had made in the past that she disapproved of most of her patients, finding them too trivial or petty.

“Won’t you get in trouble for doing that?” Alois asked.

“If they say anything I’ll just say you did it, they can’t tell my patients off,” she answered. Alois felt irritated that he’d broken his vow of silence over a drawing.

"If you feel like doing some scribbles you can go ahead,” she added before she actually sat down on her couch. Alois didn’t feel like doing scribbles. 

There was a clock in the room and it had a very rhythmic ticking that Alois often listened to in order to pass time during his sessions, it seemed Dr. Anafeloz did the same. She was too polite to pull out a phone or a book but too tired of getting nowhere to do anything more than make the occasional remark when the mood struck her. They usually spent these sessions in silence, just waiting for the session to be over.

When there was twenty minutes left Alois remembered his sleepwalking and that he’d considered telling Dr. Anafeloz about it. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it instead. Somehow sensing the shift in his mood, Dr. Anafeloz turned towards him.

“Are you alright?” she asked. Alois turned towards her and deliberated on speaking. He didn’t know what would come of saying anything about his sleepwalking to her. The more he thought about it, the less he really knew that he had been sleepwalking. He just knew he went to sleep in a rickety bed and he woke up surrounded by dirt, sand and cacti.

“I…” he paused, “I woke up in a desert this morning.”

“What do you mean by that?” Dr. Anafeloz asked as she pulled a pen and paper out of her handbag.

“The street the hostel is on, there’s a desert behind it. I fell asleep in a bed and I woke up about a thirty minute walk’s distance into the desert.”

“How did you get there?” she asked, “I mean you can’t have sleepwalked or else someone would have noticed.”

Before Alois could reply, the receptionist barged in, parting the door beads which made a rattling sound as she pushed through them.

“How often have I told you not to do that?” Dr. Anafeloz almost barked it out at first but then softened her tone, a look of forced calm coming over her.

“Er, sorry,” she muttered, “It’s just, there’s a man here and he says he’s from the FBI.”

“The FBI? Why?” Dr. Anafeloz asked.

"They said they need to interview Alois, your client.”

“How do you know they’re legit? Did you check with the local police?” Dr. Anafeloz pursued.

“Well, no…” the receptionist began, “I’ll go and do it now.”

“Also, tell them to wait until the end of the session,” Dr. Anafeloz added.

“They said it’s urgent,” the receptionist said, a small look of panic coming across her face.

“Fine,” Dr. Anafeloz sighed, “Come back when the police have confirmed that the FBI are actually here.”

“Okay,” the receptionist nodded. Alois looked between the two women in confusion.

“The FBI?” he mumbled. Dr. Anafeloz turned towards him.

“It’s nothing to worry about, really. I’m not that surprised they’ve gotten involved,” she explained softly.

Alois nodded and then looked toward the window. The bamboo blinds were still blocking his view of the outside which must’ve been why the room was so dim. It was hard to tell what was causing the orange glow in the room though.

“So about your sleepwalking,” Dr. Anafeloz began, “Have you told the people at the hostel?”

“They wouldn’t notice me if I jumped off the roof.”

“That’s not true,” she said.

“Really? Because they’re supposed to escort me to my appointments and they haven’t taken me to one.”

“Do you want me to call them?” she asked. After a moment of deliberation, Alois shook his head, “No? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I don’t mind having a bit of freedom anyway,” he felt a little more self-assured in saying this as he met people who were actually worth talking to today anyway. In Alois’ opinion, the people who worked in the hostel were ugly and boring. They smoked cheap e-cigarettes whilst watching soap operas in the living room when they should be working and they helped people clean their arses for a living.

“I’m concerned for your safety,” she added.

“Then can’t you tell the police to move me somewhere else? The hostels overcrowded and the people who work there are awful!"

“It’s not that simple,” she almost stammered. The sudden nervousness in her voice was jarring. However, in that moment, Alois realised he had some control over the woman in front of him. He wasn’t sure why or how he had prompted that response. Previously, his discussions with Dr. Anafeloz had receieved little response or reaction, she would just nod and take notes. After those first few sessions he had nothing to talk about or say and so everything had begun to peter off from there.

The silence was interrupted with the footsteps of the receptionist as she made her way back up to the room. She ducked her head through the hanging beads which made a scattering sound.

“The local police confirmed that they’re legitimate,” she announced before she then immediately ducked back out again. Dr. Anafeloz sighed and then motioned towards the door.

“I’ll call the hostel so that I can finish having this conversation with you,” she added before she got up and parted the hanging beads for Alois. He nodded and then he slipped through the gap and made his way downstairs.

In the waiting room the receptionist, Linda (a lanky blonde with a bob) was sat reading a magazine whilst a tall man with dark hair and glasses stood conspicuously in the centre of the room. A blonde teenage girl, who was vaguely familiar to Alois, sat reading a copy of _Teen Vogue_ but was distracted by the odd presence in the room. There was an expensive looking phone resting on her knee that made Alois wonder what she was doing here. Then again, all phones looked expensive to Alois.

“Who are you?” Dr. Anafeloz asked the man standing in the centre of the room.

“Agent Faustus,” he announced as if it were obvious.

“Okay…” Dr. Anafeloz responded, she looked at Linda and raised her eyebrow, Linda responded by shrugging and then she retreated back to her copy of _Women’s Health_. Alois continued to nod his head awkwardly.

“I don’t know anything,” he began, “That I haven’t said before.”

“Yes,” Dr. Anafeloz hummed and then she began more sternly, “How can it be urgent? The police have record of Alois’ original statement. Unless…” her voice then descended into a gasp and she covered her mouth.

“I’m not sure what you think has happened but I’m here because I think Alois is lying.”

“I did not,” he protested.”

“I don’t blame him for lying,” Agent Faustus added as if Alois had said nothing, “The issue is that whoever’s handling the case is completely incompetent."

“That’s not untrue,” Dr. Anafeloz mused, “But what does that have to do with Alois being a liar?”

“It’s obvious in the tapes that he’s just saying what the detectives want him to.”

Alois felt like drawing attention to the fact that he was right there, in between them both, and listening to them talk about him as if he were non-existent. In truth, Alois’ had nothing to argue about though. He remembered very little of when he was taken in for questioning. He had been in the hospital overnight and then he had been taken right down to the station very early in the morning. It was a complete blur and he remembered that he’d just wanted to leave the whole time that he’d been there. Maybe he had compromised by saying what they wanted him to say so he could just go. He didn’t remember.

“Are you going to ask me all those questions all over again?” Alois asked warily.

“Yes.”

Alois wasn’t fully aware of how ‘normal’ people were but he knew that his feelings on this matter would be weird to most people. Alois had felt this awful feeling in his chest after he said what he had to the police. He felt sick to his stomach for days and that was when he was moved to the psych ward of the hospital. It wasn’t too long before Alois realised that he felt guilty for telling people what happened. There was a lot of talk about survivor’s guilt when he mentioned it to a psychiatrist and Alois nodded and pretended that the guilt he felt came from being the sole survivor of the whole calamity but he knew that he didn’t really care about all of that.

“What if I don’t want to?” Alois replied in irritation to the cold tone the agent was using on him.

“Then the man who hurt you and those other boys can’t be punished for what he did,” the agent replied as if recycling clichéd lines from a television show.

Alois was about to say how he really felt but he felt Dr. Anafeloz bristle behind him and he realised that he didn’t want her to know how he felt about the matter so he just looked towards a window again.

“You should know how difficult reliving trauma can be for victims,” Dr. Anafeloz stated.

“No, I’ll speak,” Alois said which was a shock for both of the arguing adults, “If you get me a mobile phone. A good one.”

“I can’t do that,” Agent Faustus huffed.

“Then I can’t speak,” Alois responded. Agent Faustus sighed as he looked at Alois.

"I'll see what I can do," he said. Dr. Anafeloz's jaw dropped.

"You can't..." She began but Alois was already following Agent Faustus out the door. For a moment, Alois almost made a grab for Agent Faustus' hand but he remembered that the man was not here to be kind to him. The door was swung open and if Alois had not instinctually grabbed it, it would have slammed shut in his face.

Agent Faustus scanned the car park despite his car being both in front of them and atrociously parked. The car had spectacularly managed to take up three spaces, not because it was big, but because the spaces were vertical and the car had been parked horizontally.

"Why did you park your car like that?" Alois asked, his voice heavy with judgement. There was no response.

"Have you had breakfast?" Agent Faustus asked as he opened his car door.

"Sort of," Alois answered as he moved towards the backseat.

"Do you drink coffee then?"

"No," Alois began and the agent grunted, "I can try it, I guess."

"Wonderful," the agent responded in a manner so dry the current California draught crisis paled in comparison. Alois hadn't wanted to try coffee but he had that often when someone wanted something, going along with it hurt a lot less.

"You don't have to sit in the back," he said to Alois.

"Do you want me to sit in the front?" Alois asked. He felt uncomfortable with the idea for some reason but was far past caring. The agent seemed to be ticked off by Alois' response and Alois had a good idea why this was. Without any consideration, Alois managed to amble through the gap between the two front seats and sit uncomfortably in the passenger seat. The dashboard was immaculate and Alois had to sit on his hands to avoid his nervous tic of drumming them against it. He refrained from making a teasing remark like “Better?” in fear that it might have been pushing things.

The agent pulled the car out of the parking lot, narrowly avoiding hitting another car, and he drove down the road into streets Alois was not yet acquainted with.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so first here's an about me: I'm mentally ill and because of that I can be pretty chaotic when it comes to updating which is why I made a new account to post this because on my main account I have a few different stories that need updating but I really wanted to write this before my brain sort of lost the idea I guess. I usually write really short updates so I have no idea how I actually managed to write a chapter this long.  
> About the fic: I know this isn't quite normal for a fanfic because I read a lot of fanfics and I feel like they generally have a different structure to "original works" (as fanfics usually revolve more around the characters/pairing than the story, if you get what I mean). I don't really know why I chose to write this as a fanfic but basically, it's inspired by a really weird dream/nightmare I had based on 'It Follows'. Some of the other main inspirations are: 'Blue Velvet', 'Lolita', 'life is Strange', 'Murder House- American Horror Story', 'Looking for JJ', 'Silent Hill' and the HP Lovecraft mythology. I don't want to sound like one of those "Not your average girl" types of people but I definitely thinks this is pretty odd compared to most fanfics because it's kind of like a thriller novel instead of a love story as it was based on a nightmare I had. I have changed the spelling of some characters names and also Alois' last name in this story will be 'Stevenson' because obviously the ringleader of the human trafficking ring was Earl Trancy and it would make no sense for his witness proection name to be Trancy.  
> There's probably something important I should have mentioned here but I'm not sure what it is.


End file.
